#apparently i am doing the lord's work on this cat

[queers-gambit]

Alpine

prompt: in an effort to help your boyfriend with his trauma, you rescue a furry feline together - a white cat named, Alpine - who rescues you both in return.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 6.9k+

note: been seeing a lot of Alpine recently and got inspired.

second note: no, it's not comic / canon compliant so just have fun. author did some research but there's not a LOT written / known about Alpine, so, again, just have fun!

warnings: post Endgame, pre tfaws; cursing, Lord's name in vain, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Nick Fury calling reader a bitch playfully, Bucky's trauma responses, small spoilers, Dr. Raynor / therapy.

other works with Widow!reader and Bucky NOT necessary to read

read here: Damage Done

"Are you angry with me?"

"No."

"Disappointed? Annoyed? Frustrated?"

"No, doll."

"Then why won't you talk to me!?"

"Nothing to say."

You wiped a hand down your face, lifting it only to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your head shook to shake away your thoughts, sniffling emotion, sighing when you dropped your hand to slap against your thigh. "I'm really trying here, Bucky, I swear to you, I am. But I can't help if you don't talk to me," you softened your voice, beginning to understand this was a losing battle.

"I never said I needed help."

"You never have to ask me for help, Bucky, I just give it because I want to! Because I love you! That's part of being in a relationship!"

"Maybe I don't want it!" Your boyfriend snapped, rounding on you with unfiltered emotion in his eyes. The horrors swam in his baby blues, vivid memories he was unable to escape haunting him, terrorizing him; creating a shell of a man who could no longer hide his avid pain. "Did you ever think about that? Ever consider that I don't want your help because I don't need it?"

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Buck."

"No, not everyone - I'm not one of your pet projects, you don't get to treat me like a broken thing that needs fixed! I certainly don't need your pity - not yours."

"I don't pity you! Fuck's sake, Bucky, I love you and want to see you heal. I know you better than anyone - "

"You don't," he sneered, cutting you off. "You don't know me, not really, not as well as Steve - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Steve isn't here! He's not coming back!" You snapped, instantly regretting it when Bucky's eyes coated with glassy emotion he fought vehemently to keep down. "I-I'm sorry, that was - that was really mean of me and totally out of line," you apologized, both sighing deeply. "All right, look, let's just talk this out, please."

"There's nothing to say."

Your hip cocked, arms crossing, "She called me, you know."

"Who?"

"Dr. Raynor."

"Fuck's sake," he growled. "Why would she do that?"

"Maybe because today's session was, apparently, supposed to be a couples session. She thought I was refusing, called to say I was impeding on your progress and if I want to help you, I'd have to show up to your appointments. Which is really funny because you never told me about today, so I had no idea what the hell she was talking about - but that didn't stop her from tearing me a new asshole!"

He frowned, avoiding your eyes. "I didn't need a couples session. Not today, I just - I wanted today to focus on other shit."

"And I can respect that, but you're not doing yourself any favors by hiding shit from me. To get the best results from therapy, you have to actually do the work, and not just do what Dr. Raynor says, but actually listen to her advice - "

"I don't need you on my back about this, Raynor does that enough for you both," Bucky growled. "I do the fucking work - I'm the one in that room, I'm the one applying silly little rules to my life - "

"Obviously not if you didn't even tell me Raynor requested my attendance! You should've told me, and then you should've said you weren't ready! I would've respected that, but I can't do a Goddamn thing if you don't talk to me!"

His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, skin twitching and distinct muscles tightening. "Like I said, there's nothing to talk about," he practically spat, shaking his head at you before grabbing his sneakers from the closet.

You didn't mean to sound harsh, but demanded, "Where are you going? We're in the middle of a conversation."

"No, we're not, 'cause I'm ending it," he scoffed, sitting on the corner of your shared mattress, exchanged his shoes. "And I'm going for a run, need to clear my head."

You shook your head before leaving the bedroom, "Absolutely unbelievable."

Bucky left your shared apartment a few minutes later, somewhere you've only lived five months - the time it's been since Tony Stark, Iron Man, snapped the other half of living beings back into existence. He lost his life in return, the ultimate sacrifice, but he managed to reverse the damage Thanos created five years prior. Five months of living in this apartment without a lick of warmth, personal touch, or real sentiment; it being dreary, dark, and mostly empty. Hell, Bucky didn't even feel comfortable in bed, so he camped in the barren living room, giving visual to the way your relationship was beginning to fray, unravel, crack.

He didn't want anything personal in your apartment - thinking it was ridiculous to settle down after all you two have endured, witnessed, and fought for. You agreed to keep things at the bare minimum, only stocking what was necessary, knowing this was part of his healing process and didn't want to drum-up further anxiety. It made everything impersonal, boring, bland, and down right depressing - but it was a small accommodation you could provide your lover.

You hated the distance. Hated how alone Bucky felt after Steve. Hated how reclusive he became, the anger he projected. Hated how no matter what you did, you weren't enough - not this time. For years, you've loved him despite his flaws, his brainwashing, his trauma responses, but whatever he was enduring now was something you weren't equipped to handle. Didn't mean you weren't willing to try, but Bucky was the one pushing you away; thinking his demons were his sole responsibility, never letting you be the pillar that helped support him. God, you hated the distance.

You left the apartment, too. Nick Fury had employed you for creative, solo, high profile missions; wanting to utilize your Widow training, especially now that Natasha Romanoff was deceased. And you wanna know what? Bucky hadn't even asked about her, never tried to offer comfort, only quietly attending the funeral service you hosted with the remaining Avengers to give her a proper sendoff - despite there being no body. Bucky knew you and Nat were as thick as thieves, family without blood, two lost souls who leaned on each other in trying times; bonded by trauma, encouraged by resounding bravery, disciplined by strength. The fact that your boyfriend never even checked in with you after Nat's passing obviously hurt your feelings but you remained silent.

Again, to avoid generating more anxiety for Bucky.

You met the one-eyed man at a local, bustling coffee shop, finding the sight of the hardened, burly man eating a scone amusing. "Got you one of these," he nudged a dessert plate to your side of the table when you sat down with your desired coffee, "know you like 'em."

"Blueberries are my favorite," you half-smirked, regarding the moist muffin and sighing sadly. "All right, sir, what's on the docket?"

He stared at you for a moment, chewing thoughtfully before leaning back in his chair. "The fuck's going on with you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You look different today."

"Mh," you nodded, joking, "got a hair cut."

"No, it's your aura. Something bothering you, kid?"

"You do realize I'm a fully grown adult, right?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't see age."

"You don't - nobody sees age, Nick, Jesus."

He took a sip of his green tea. "There's still something bothering you. Not sure if you should go on this mission if you're wound tight."

"I'm just dealing with shit at home."

"Oh, right, the cyborg. How is the hundred year old psycho?"

"You you want me to stab out your other eye? 'Cause I fucking will," you threatened with a fork clenched in your grasp, perking your brows up your forehead. "Say that shit again, see what the fuck I do, Nick, I absolutely dare you."

He chuckled, hands held in defense, "Sorry, sorry, that was uncalled for. What's wrong with Sergeant Barnes?"

You shrugged, "It's complicated."

"Bitch, aliens opening a wormhole in space and time to invade Earth is complicated - relationships aren't. Try me."

After an amused chuckle, you told him, "He's struggling right now. You know? After everything, it's been a lot for him and now that things are relatively back to normal, he's having a hard time trying to assimilate himself back into the populace. You know, learning to live in this day and age - a man out of time, outside his comfort zone, forced to adjust himself after living as a weapon of mass destruction for so long. Add in the fact that his best friend passed, marking another forceful adjustment he's unprepared for..."

"Hm," Nick nodded, "heard he's got a full pardon."

"He does."

"Which has a contingency he's gotta go to therapy, right? Part of rejoining society?"

You nodded, "Right, again."

"So he's in therapy and still struggling?"

"It's not like there's an on-off switch, Nick, therapy takes time and dedication. I just don't think he feels at peace, calm, in control - like he deserves any of this; the pardon especially. Think the stress, fear, and confusion is eating at him."

"Well, he's got you."

"I'm not his mother."

"No, you're his girlfriend, and it's a girlfriend's responsibility to support him, ain't it? Help him through this?"

"I can only do so much, Nick," you scoffed, "I'm just one person and he's a stubborn jackass - he just pushes me away. I'm sure I don't help the situation by accepting your contracts."

Fury considered your words for a long moment, then asked, "You said he's lonely?"

"Wouldn't you? Given his situation? He won't say, but I know losing Steve caused a part of him die."

Nick shrugged, "So get him a dog."

You never wouldn't guessed those words could ever pass Nick Fury's lips, head cocking, eyes narrowing, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm sorry, do what now?"

"It's obvious, ain't it? Dude needs company when you're gone, a sense of purpose, to feel like there was something - or someone - depending on him. Might help whatever limbo he's lingering in."

"A dog?"

"A dog. He can take it for walks or whatever."

You considered his recommendation, asking again, "A dog?"

"Do we need to get your hearing checked again? You lose the last functionality of your ears? Yes, a dog."

"I don't know..."

"It's just a suggestion, might promote his peace, help him process grief and guilt. Telling you, a dog would do him good. Now," he took another sip of tea, "onto business."

"You give me whiplash," you chuckled. "What's this job?"

"Simple and easy," he pulled up a tablet from the chair beside him, tapping it three times and handing it to you.

"None of your jobs are simple or easy, Nicky-Nick."

"I told you, don't call me that. Look, I just need you in London to investigate a string of potential terrorist activity. Just some recon, you won't be gone more than a few days - if you behave and stay on task."

You scanned the document, "When do I ever do that?" He chuckled briefly, you wondering, "Flagsmashers? Jesus, what a name. C'mon, you can't be serious. These guys are just radicals - you know, trying to vouch for those displaced after the Blip. It's actually kinda endearing, I mean, they're trying to give a microphone to those without a voice."

"They're escalating - too quickly," Fury informed. "They haven't raised any international flags yet, but something ain't right about them. I just need you as eyes and ears, maybe report if you think they're worth the worry."

Little did you know, in only about a month, you would join forces with Bucky and Sam Wilson - The Falcon - to dismantle the organization.

"When do I leave?"

"Tuesday would be ideal. But I can push it to Friday if you wanna go get that dog."

Your laughter was endearing, handing the tablet back over.

Bucky liked holding hands, though, he often wouldn't ever voice it. It made him feel tethered, anchored to reality; instilling a sense of pride to have such a gorgeous lady - such as yourself - at his side. However, the part he liked most, was being reminded he wasn't alone; even when on crowded, overpopulated streets, he didn't have to be afraid because with his hand in yours, he looked just like everyone else. You protected him even without intending to or without even knowing what you were doing.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he sighed, people on the street sidestepping and avoiding running into you two. "I was upset, stressed out, you know how I get after seeing Raynor."

"It's okay, baby," you assured, ever the patient, loyal, and supportive girlfriend he needed. "I'm not holding it against you, but just promise me, when you're ready, you'll tell me."

He nodded, "I will - I mean, I promise." You hummed and pet his bicep with your other hand, giving his arm a hug. "Now are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

He was ready to reply when a small commotion echoed from the alley you were passing, Bucky coming to a jarring halt that yanked on your arm, swinging you around. You were ready to ask what was happening when you clocked one of Bucky's "friends", an older man named Yori Nakajima, arguing with one of his neighbors.

"Hey, hey, Yori," Bucky intervened, you watching from the mouth of the alley, "woah, hey, what's going on?"

You couldn't hear whatever Yori was saying, but Bucky turned to the other man and growled something at him that made the neighbor scurry off. He glared at you, lip curled in a sneer, disappearing amongst patrons of the crowded sidewalk. You frowned and approached Yori and Bucky, your boyfriend still trying to calm his friend - well, 'friend' was a very generous term. See, Yori was the father of a young man that died by the hand of the Winter Soldier, being a name on Bucky's list he needed to make amends with.

However, when you took your place beside Bucky, Yori was waving you both off and shuffling down the alley, towards one of his apartment building's doors. "What was that all about?" You asked softly, taking note of the disgruntled expression your boyfriend usually wore these days.

"Just," he sighed, shaking his head, "Yori's upset with some of his neighbors - thinks they're encroaching on being disrespectful."

"When doesn't he?" Bucky sighed, you wondering softly, "You think you're ever gonna feel ready to tell him?"

"I'm working on it," he sighed sadly. "All right, c'mon - "

You both paused with furrowed brows when there came a series of shrill meows from under a couple of soggy, cardboard boxes beside a dumpster. "Did you hear that?" You asked.

"Uh-huh."

Another elongated meow was heard, Bucky curiously approach the discarded trash coated in sewage sludge. He slowly squatted, you approaching his shoulder when another meow cried out. Now, normally, you'd never investigate animal noises out of fear they were feral and carrying disease, but something just felt sad about what you heard - apparently, to Bucky, too. Gingerly, he reached out and lifted a piece of dripping cardboard, seeing a bundle moving under the next piece. He moved that one, too.

"Oh, my God!" You cooed when a tiny kitten was revealed. White fur was stained with dirt, sludge, and other nasty juices; nose pink, eyes a piercing, clear blue with brownish tear stains rimming them. The kitten mewed in greeting, pacing a tight circle before trying to back up in the brick wall; hunching its back and hissing slightly when you lowered yourself into a squat beside Bucky. "Baby, it's all alone, should we help?" You pouted.

"I don't think it wants our help, doll," he sighed. "It looks scared of us. Bet the mother's around somewhere, be a shame to move it if she's coming back."

"It looks too skinny, maybe it's alone?"

"Or maybe it's not," Buck countered. "C'mon, sugar, we can't take it."

After a bit of back and forth, you finally relented and had to walk away. You frowned for at least two blocks, but upon your halt at a crosswalk, you were greeted by another shrieking meow. Whipping around, you and Buck both looked down to discover the wee little kitten had followed you and was practically yelling for your attention. You grinned.

"Well, now we really have to help it," you told Bucky.

"How?"

"We take it to a shelter," you answered, shrugging, "good thing I know where one is."

"What's it doing?" Bucky asked nervously, the kitten dancing around your legs; brushing up against you both, meowing the whole time.

"I think she wants you to pick her up," you smirked.

He sighed and stooped to scoop the little creature in hand, regarding it carefully; weighing it, checking paws and other vulnerable spots. Bucky muttered, "All right, yeah, fine, let's take him to a shelter. Little beast needs some food it feels like, definitely a flea bath and some fresh water."

"You big softie."

"Lead the way to the shelter, princess, c'mon," he ignored your jab, tucking the kitten into his chest protectively. "He feels fragile," Bucky worried, "maybe you should carry him, I might crush him."

"You've got the little babe, Buck," you assured, "you're not gonna hurt him - I mean, if it's even a him."

"By the attitude, could be a girl," he joked, making your heart lighten. He'd been in such a funk that you missed his teasing, soft words; the little jokes he cracked, his smile - God, you missed seeing his smile. During your time on the run after DC, while seeking refuge in Bucharest for a couple years, you grew accustomed to seeing his radiant smile; remembering how easily he offered it when just the two of you. For a moment, you considered how your relationship was no longer just you and Bucky - but his trauma, too.

Arriving at the shelter, it was like an assault on the senses. Dogs were heard barking from the kennels, the pungent smell of urine and wood chips smacking you in the face, and a sort of humidity lingering in the air - a sharp contrast to the crisp outside.

"Hi," you greeted the receptionist, offering a kind smile.

"Hi, there. How can I help you two?" The man with long hair asked.

"Well, uh, two things," you explained, "one: we'd like to tour your kennels, we're interested in adopting a dog - "

"We are?" Bucky gaped.

" - and two: we found this little fella in an alley," you pointed to the kitten curled protectively against Bucky's warmth. "We wanted to make sure he was okay, maybe leave him here for adoption?"

"Oh," Man Bun blinked, regarding both Bucky and the kitten, "wow, uh, yeah, that's really nice of you guys, rescuing the little guy. You know, since everyone came back few months ago, there's be an influx of strays. A lot of people gave up their animals when their loved ones came back."

"Well, that's super fucked up," your eyes rolled.

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "Look, I'd love to help you guys out, so, tell you what. I can let you back in the kennels - no problem! Help match you to your new companion, but, uh... I don't think I can help you with the cat. You see, we, uh, we've had to start euthanizing the overflow animals or the ones who don't get adopted in a timeframe. We're at our max capacity, so... If you wanna leave him here, uh, I can't promise he'll have a place."

"You'd put him down?" Bucky growled.

"It's not what we want to do," Man Bun swiftly explained, "but it's just necessary - we don't have the room or resources to take him."

"Do you know of any no-kill shelters? Maybe one that has room?" You asked, feeling Bucky's disgust rolling off him in waves.

"Not in the area," Man Bun frowned. "Honestly? I think the closest no-kill shelter's in Maryland. Maybe Virginia?"

"Jesus," you frowned, looking at Bucky.

"Look, my best advice?" Man Bun offered, "Take the little tike home, clean him up, and call around to other shelters to see if they have space. But if you intend to adopt a dog, maybe bringing back a kitten isn't the best timing. If you give him up to us, he'll probably be sent directly to overflow..."

"We'll take him home," Bucky instantly decided, shocking you.

"We will?" You asked softly, lips curling in a small smile.

"Why not?" He sighed.

"I would've thought you'd be more of a dog person..."

"I'm not an animal person, but we're not leaving this little guy here just for him to be euthanized. We can handle him for a few days, you know, until we find a shelter with room."

"I think that's a great idea," you grinned.

"But was this your plan? For us to adopt a dog?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "Just thought a dog would be nice company when I'm outta town for work. You know, could go on walks or runs together, you'd have someone looking out for you, maybe a dog would help with your stress levels?"

He eyed you for a moment, sighing, "I appreciate that, doll. Maybe another time, though? At least let us find somewhere or someone to take this guy."

The kitten gave a prolonged squeak - seemingly agreeing. "All right, noisy, we hear you," you chuckled, giving the kitten's head a scratch. You asked Man Bun, "Do you guys have the means to check him over, you know, before we go home? Make sure he's not injured or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "let me go get one of the technicians."

After the tech's exam, you were given the paperwork from that day's visit, the name, number, and address of a recommended vet, and before you knew it, found yourselves at the local pet store. You would've been ashamed by the absurd amount of money you spent, but Bucky rationalized the need because you weren't sure how long your new companion would stay with you. So, you ransacked the store, buying a sizable litter box, 50 pounds of actual litter, a bag of kibble, case of wet food, several different treats, a balm for the baby's feet, too many toys and stimulation activities, a carrying case in the event of transporting the kitten, and a tiny collar - if you decided to keep the little noise machine.

The sight of Bucky with the little fuzz ball warmed your heart. He still seemed hesitant and stiff, as if afraid to hurt the kitten, but he wasn't so tense anymore. However, he handed the pet over for you to hold while he carried the supplies back home; biceps bulging to support the weight. In that moment, walking familiar streets with his arms full of cat supplies, he questioned how he got here - to feel all domestic and out-of-place. He was Bucky Barnes - a Sargent in the Army, prolific hitman, something of an Avenger now. He didn't adopt cats and buy toys!

However, watching you talk to the kitten softly, he smiled - something small at first that grew like a germinating seed to split his face. You seemed so... Bright, excited, rejuvenated, even. He knew the past five months since the Blip had been rough on you, what with losing Natasha, fighting Thanos and his army of aliens, then ricocheting into 'normal life' only to deal with his emotional baggage. Watching you walk down the street with a fuzzy white ball of energy, pointing out different things, cooing and narrating the city to the kitten as if he could understand was refreshing after seemingly seeing nothing but a frown on your lips recently.

To Bucky, as long as you were happy, he was happy - and it seemed you were very content with your new little buddy. So, he was happy with your new little buddy and figured a dose of domestic life wasn't the end of the world. In fact, he actually felt... Intrigued by the newest addition to your little family.

When you returned home, it was to an empty apartment. Bucky dropped the supplies in the living room, hands to his hips, looking around, "Well, uh... At least there's room to run around, right?"

You nodded, "And no risk of ruined furniture."

"Yeah," he sighed, watching you set the kitten down. "All right, pip squeak. C'mon, lemme give you the tour - pay attention. So, in here," he moved around the wall, kitten following and listening intently, labeling, "this is the kitchen, this is where you'll get your meals - and no, you're not allowed on the counters." He pointed a warning finger, "Don't let me catch you up there or there's gonna be hell to pay. I don't wanna find your hair in my morning bagel."

"Buck, you don't eat breakfast."

"Fine, then I don't wanna hear my girl found hair in her bagel."

The kitten mewed loudly, trotting to keep up as Bucky walked around the barren apartment - giving a literal tour. You unpacked the supplies, setting up a raised food bowl beside a full water bowl. You left the treats in an empty cupboard, the litter box ready to use in the bathroom, and tossed some toys around the open, empty living room floor. You meandered, stashing other supplies, hearing the scampering thuds of excited little feet.

When your head popped out of the kitchen, you grinned at what you saw. Bucky was sat on the floor, flicking a feathered stick over the hardwood floors for the kitten to race around and try to catch. The longer you watched, the more defenseless Bucky seemed, and dare you say it, he looked calm - maybe even happy. His eyes were locked on the animal's antics as if he didn't want to miss a single movement he made; small smile making him look younger and brighter.

You made a mental note to thank Nick Fury for his suggestion. Sure, he actually said to get a dog, but this kitten seemed to have the same effect.

"Hey, baby?" You called, hanging up your phone after calling the recommended vet. "So, uh... Listen, you know how I have to go outta town on Friday?"

"Yeah?" He glanced up, letting the kitten wrestle his booted foot.

"So, I managed to get a vet appointment but it's for Friday. Is that okay? Or do you want me to reschedule for when I'm back so we can go together?"

"Oh, uh, no, that's all right, sugar, keep the Friday slot. I can take him, it's not a big deal."

"You sure? I hate having to saddle you with this responsibility."

"I'm sure," he nodded, "I can take him, it's okay."

For the rest of the week, you had a front row viewing of an incredible bond being formed. The kitten liked you, you two had many moments together, but it was obvious the little guy adored Bucky. He was stuck to your boyfriend like Velcro, following him everywhere, shrieking for attention when Bucky was preoccupied, liked being held when he cooked, even tried to get in the shower with Bucky. They played together, Bucky's laugh warming the entire apartment; positively obsessed with one another, the little guy even sleeping between you and Bucky.

It was as if you both forgot to look for the kitten a permanent home, the lack of furniture providing wide space for play and entertainment. Bucky even got one of those cat trees, couple individual scratching posts, and a laser pointer that drove your furry friend up the wall. There was some unspoken rule about naming animals - where if you named them, they were yours officially. So, one evening over dinner, you proposed a few names, Bucky giving his opinion; but then you began to consider "theme" names. Because your little buddy was white, you mused over names like Noelle or Snow, but finally settled on Alpine after narrowly beating out Aspen.

The day you flew to London, you warned both Bucky and kitten to behave themselves. Later that night, while you were sat in a tinted SUV for surveillance, your phone rang with Bucky's contact. "Hey, baby, how's it going?" You answered, refocusing through your advanced camera lens to snap necessary photos.

"Good, yeah. Uh, how's London?"

"Pretty dreary, it's been raining all day. Hey, how was the vet appointment?"

'Oh, yeah, no, it was, uh, yeah, it was good. Gave Alpine a buncha shots, microchipped her, started her on antibiotics - "

"Did you say, 'her'?"

"Yeah, that was the other thing - turns out, Alpine's a girl."

You chuckled, "Well, I'll be damned. How're you feelin', Buck?"

"I'm... Okay."

"I'm sorry I'm not there," you sighed. "Nightmares again?"

"Yeah."

"Sleeping in the living room?"

"You know it."

"TV on?"

"Reminds me I'm not where I dreamt I am."

"Well, I'll be home in a few days."

"What's this mission?"

"Just a little recon, I'm only to observe. Nicky told me to keep an eye on some suspicious activity."

"Don't tell me you're sitting in a white van?"

"No, sir, it's a Rolls Royce this time," you chuckled.

True to your word, you were home by Tuesday night. The transatlantic flight was long and tedious; a storm creating steady turbulence, making it absolutely impossible to get any shut eye. When you landed, you made a beeline to the Starbucks and got the largest coffee possible with an added 2 shots of espresso before exiting the bustling airport. Outside, waiting at the curb, Nick Fury himself stood before a sleek and shiny car that probably cost more than a 4-year education at an American university.

He smirked, "Welcome back, kid."

"Nice of you to pick me up, Nicky-Nick."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call me 'kid'."

"Get in the Goddamn car, I'm not having this argument again."

After storing your luggage, Nick drove you back home while listening to your mission report. You didn't think the Flagsmashers were extreme enough to warrant intervention, but all Nick heard was that now was the time to strike before there came the need, before a chance for escalation could occur. You left the tablet full of notes, observations, photos, and data with the one-eyed man, and before you fully departed the car, paused to lean in the open window.

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to thank you."

"What for?" Nick asked, face hardened in a permanent look of disagreement. You never took it personally - Nick Fury having professional Resting Bitch Face (RBF).

"Your advice about getting Bucky a dog."

"No shit," he chuckled, "you actually got him a dog?"

"Uh, well, no..."

"What'd you get?" Nick asked in suspicion, watching your lips roll between your teeth to restrain your smile. "Ah, hell no! You didn't! A cat? A fucking cat?"

"I know you don't like them - "

"Bitch! One scratched out my eye!"

"But our cat didn't."

"Doesn't matter - fuck all them felines."

You laughed and slapped the metal door, "Well, thank you anyway for the idea of a companion animal. Bucky's a lot calmer it seems."

Nick Fury sighed, waving you off like a pesky insect. "I'll call you when I got another job. Have fun with the little demon."

"You talkin' about Bucky or Alpine?"

"The cat - wait, Alpine? The fuck kinda name is that?"

"You know, Alpine... Like the Alps?"

His head shook, "I know what fuckin' alpine is."

"Why don't you head off - looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke. Didn't realize getting a kitten would stress you out this bad."

"Get out my Goddamn window and I can leave."

You grinned and dropped a wink, again, patting the car and stepping back onto the sidewalk. Nick peeled off, leaving you alone to shoulder your duffel bag and head inside your apartment building. When you got to your desired location, the door opened without the usual creak, Bucky obviously WD-40'ing the hinges. "Hello?" You called softly, hanging your keys on the little peg in the foyer, toeing out of your shoes, glancing around the empty apartment.

Ready to call out again, you actually almost choked on air when you inhaled but stopped abruptly. You pouted your bottom lip at the sight of Bucky sound asleep in his nest on the floor, TV's lighting flashing and creating shadows, giving clear sight of Alpine curled in a tight ball on Buck's chest. His flesh hand was raised to rest on his chest, keeping Alpine cuddled to his warmth.

Quickly, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, snapping an adorable picture of your boyfriend before silently tiptoeing away to dispose of your duffel and purse. You sent the photo to Bucky's phone, positive you were keeping the kitten. After a long, hot shower that washed the travel from your body, you changed into loungewear, pulled your hair back, then reentered the living room where you knelt at Bucky's side. In-sync, your presence made both Alpine and Bucky flinch awake - your boyfriend jerking away from your warmth as the kitten hopped off his chest.

You winced, "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to wake you."

His head shook, "No, it's all right, doll, I wasn't sleeping."

"You were, don't deny it," you grinned, settling on the mound of blankets.

Bucky chuckled gently, "I tried to stay up for you. C'mere," his arm opened in invitation, smirking gently. You settled down and turned into his side, his arm now coiled around your form, constricting to pull you closer so his lips could plant on your forehead. "How was London? Your mission?"

"Easy peasy," you sighed, "nothing too strenuous or stressful. The most 'complicated' part of the whole thing was using a different car each day to avoid suspicion."

"Hmm... Who was the target?"

"Some radical group," you sighed, head resting on his pectoral. "How was it? Just you and Alpine?"

"It was pretty good, nothing to complain about. She's nice company."

As if understanding she was the topic of conversation, Alpine mewed several times in a row as she walked up the seam of your body pressed to Bucky's. She turned in two circles before settling down between you; your grin authentic as a manicured fingernail extended to scratch her head.

"Actually, sweetheart, I've been thinking..."

"Hmm? About what?" You mumbled, eyes drooping with each passing second.

"About how we should keep her - Alpine, we should keep Alpine."

"You're just figuring that out now?" You teased, sluggishly lifting your head to smirk at him. "I knew she was ours the moment you picked her up. It'll be nice having her around, don't you think? I know she's not a dog you can take on walks but with Alpine, you don't have to be alone."

He nodded, "I like that idea. She's a good cat."

"Check your phone in the morning."

"Why?"

"Mmmh, I sent you a picture, you'll see - but it's just confirmation that Alpines part of us now, part of our crew."

"Our family," Bucky agreed softly. He watched you resettle on his chest, spending the following couple hours in the glow of the TV, watching you and Alpine. Bucky's heart warmed to a degree he's never known, making the comparison of himself to Jim Carrey's, the Grinch - a movie you made him watch. Eventually, exhaustion outweighed his domestic thoughts; falling asleep with you safe in his arms and Alpine curled up between you.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise... I was beginning to think James made you up."

"Oh, please, nobody could make me up - I'm too complex, nobody's got that kinda imagination," you smirked, legs crossed, seated beside Bucky on a sofa; both facing his therapist.

"I'm glad you could finally join us - I've been asking James to bring you for a while now," Dr. Raynor's eyes darted between you and Bucky, making you feel as if she was seeing right into your soul. However, her tone was accusatory, as if scolding Bucky.

So, you swiftly defended, "Well, I'm happy to be here. Bucky's one of my top priorities, I'd do anything for him - including attending any of these silly mandated sessions. Which are bullshit, by the way, because he's not the Winter Soldier anymore so why is Bucky being crucified? Why is this being pinned on him when he technically didn't do anything? The Winter Soldier did."

"Well, healing often takes time and dedication, and must be done in a series of steps. That's how you see real progress. These sessions are a condition of his pardon - "

"I can't believe your government would even enforce these silly little rules considering Bucky's assistance. He fought against Thanos, he fought on our side, and by all means, helped restore what was lost. I just find it pretty dehumanizing to force him to jump through hoops. I mean, for Christ's sake, half the universe was snapped away, you'd think after that, there wouldn't be need for pardons or contingencies - or for holding onto grudges."

"This is simply how we keep order in a post-Blip society. Everything changed in those five years, it's necessary to keep balance amongst all worldly citizens."

You scoffed lightly, "Ever consider these sessions might be doing more harm than good?"

Raynor frowned, "Despite the Winter Soldier being decommissioned, James still has trauma to process and skeletons to clear out of the closet. Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, but the man remains - and James needs to focus on healing that part of himself. Whatever he did as the Winter Soldier wasn't Bucky's doing, but he still remembers all he did, which creates a heavy toll on the mind. That's part of the reason these sessions are mandated - because the assassin might be gone, but the residual effects still linger."

You hummed, "Well, let's get into it, Doc."

"You know... I've heard a lot about you. James paints you in a very bright light, says your bark and bite are equally as vicious."

"Hm," you nodded, brows perked, "yet I don't know shit about you."

"Perfectly natural. Typically, most people don't gossip about their therapists. It's nice that you could join us for this session."

"Nice to be invited."

She clicked her pen and settled her pad securely on her lap, just staring at you and Bucky for a long moment. You were ready to snap at her when she opened her mouth, "So, I hear you adopted a cat?"

"We did," you confirmed.

"Alpine," Bucky supplied, body rigid with tension and nerves.

"Right... Alpine," Raynor nodded, leaning her elbow to an arm of her padded chair. "How did this cat come into your possession?"

"We rescued her from a dumpster," Bucky answered stiffly.

"Really?" Raynor perked both brows.

"She was under some pieces of cardboard, screamin' her li'l head off," You chuckled. "Though, I think it's safe to say she chose us, adopted us as caregivers."

"How's that?"

"She wouldn't let us pick her up and we were afraid to take her in case her mama was lingering around. Turns out, she followed us. We were at a crosswalk when she caught up, demanding we pick her up and take her home."

"Is that so?"

"I'd like to think so," you nodded. "We were already on our way to the shelter, so, we took her with us, got her checked out."

"Why were you heading to the shelter to begin with?"

"Oh, uh, to adopt a dog. I had a colleague recommend an emotional support animal - or a companionship animal - to help Bucky feel less alone."

Raynor made a note of something. "You work often?" She asked.

"Often enough that I feel guilty for leaving. Figured getting a dog would instill a sense of dependence, you know, help Bucky feel like there was someone depending on him. Help usher in comfort and stability, help keep him calm, focused, distracted. But Alpine does the same thing - no dog necessary, apparently."

Raynor nodded, her wrinkles dimpling as she frowned and wrote down another note. When her eyes lifted, so did her lips; a smirk on display as she praised, "I actually think that's a wonderful idea. You know, there's been a lot of research about soldiers with PTSD benefitting from an emotional support animal. You're right, they promote peace, stability, distraction - gives patrons a tangible purpose, taking care of another life not their own."

"For sure, again, anything to help," you agreed, holding Bucky's gloved hand he kept covered by leather - only worn in public.

"Although, I wonder, why get a pet? I ask because James speaks highly of you, credits you for keeping him stable and on-track. Do you feel as if she's not enough, James? Is that why you kept Alpine?"

"No," he answered instantly, "she's my best girl and will always be enough. Watch your mouth, Doc."

"But sometimes extra help is nice," you tacked on, tightening your hand in Bucky's. "But for what it's worth, Dr. Raynor, Bucky keeps me sane. I keep him balanced. We keep each other safe. Alpine's just an added bonus, a quiet menace to help quell the business of our brains."

Raynor smirked, "I must say, you surprise me, Miss."

"I'm no stranger to mental health. But as I said before, I just want to help." You looked up at Bucky, finsihing softly, "He deserves peace in this lifetime - and if a little ball of fur can help, sign me up..."

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

[lizhly-writes]

based off this post. and this line, because i am going insane:

it’s okay, an ding disciples are allowed to unlock the top rights when they grow up, they take after their dad!

introducing: hallmaster jiang and disciple wu!

The peak lords of Cang Qiong were not meant to be Shang-shixiong's personal harem, but that seemed to be what was happening anyway. This was not something that Jiang Yunyan usually minded -- he normally found it incredibly amusing -- but. But.

"Disciple Wu," Jiang Yunyan said. "That is not how you are supposed to solve your problems."

"But it worked, though," muttered the little disciple that he had pulled aside after hearing about said disciple's escapades.

Wu Youxuan had been an entirely normal An Ding disciple, if one with the unfortunate tendency of getting roped into fights against Bai Zhan disciples. While he came out of these fights without too much damage, it was still disruptive to his regular tasks and duties. It was becoming a problem.

A problem that Wu Youxuan had apparently gotten advice about from the An Ding Peak Lord.

"You seduced five Bai Zhan disciples," Jiang Yunyan said.

"It's an overstatement to call it seduction," Wu Youxuan said. "This disciple simply... said a few words."

'Said a few words'. If he was following the direction of Shang-shixiong, Jiang Yunyan could very well imagine what kind of words. "Is that so?"

"Well --" Wu Youxuan began, and then his head abruptly snapped to the side, the movement not unlike that of a cat suddenly catching sight of a flock of birds.

Jiang Yunyan followed his line of sight to see that this was almost exactly what had happened. There was a pack of Bai Zhan disciples who had been passing by, all of which had frozen under Wu Youxuan's gaze, which had shifted from 'sullen boy getting reprimanded' to 'boy with enough arrogance to drown the world'. The way he tilted his head, the way he smirked -- it was all... strangely familiar.

When Jiang Yunyan recognized it, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. That was the exact bearing Shang-shixiong had worn when Jiang Yunyan had almost walked in on him seducing Liu Qingge.

Shang-shixiong was so annoying. Why was he like this? Furthermore, if he had to be like this, did he have to set this kind of example for the disciples?

"Hi," Wu Youxuan drawled, and fluttered his fingers almost teasingly at the Bai Zhan disciples, who were all turning various shades of red and starting to scatter. Most of them, anyway. There was one entirely unaffected disciple who made a rude hand gesture at Wu Youxuan before almost pointedly turning his back on him.

Wu Youxuan's smirk dropped.

"Do you have a particular disagreement with that disciple?" Jiang Yunyan said.

"No, that's just Chen-shidi," Wu Youxuan said. "I think he's mad at me. He won't talk to me anymore. Which is fine. I don't need him to talk to me. He's an asshole, anyway. Who needs him? Jerk."

None of these words seemed to stop him from staring longingly after that Chen-shidi as the other boy stomped off.

Was it that Wu Youxuan seduced all Bai Zhan disciples except for the one he was actually interested in?

"Did Lord Shang's advice not work on Disciple Chen?" Jiang Yunyan said, vaguely amused.

"I didn't try it on Chen-shidi," Wu Youxuan said, in the voice of a boy desperately trying not to sound miserable at the fact that his crush was ignoring him.

"You specifically didn't seduce Disciple Chen?"

"It's not seduction," Wu Youxuan said immediately and then, a little more hesitantly, "Jiang-laoshi thinks I should try it on Chen-shidi...?"

That was not what Jiang-laoshi had said at all.

"If I seduced him -- not that it's seduction -- he can't ignore me anymore," Wu Youxuan said, warming up to the idea. "He'd have to talk to me again." A pause. "Not that I care about that.

Fucking teenagers.

"Yes, you obviously doesn't care at all about that Disciple Chen," Jiang Yunyan said dryly.

"Right," Wu Youxuan said, sarcasm flying over his head in the face of his newfound determination to seduce his crush. "May I be excused, Jiang-laoshi?"

Shang-shixiong was such a bad example.

Jiang Yunyan contemplated what he could say. Have you considered your crush is mad because you're seducing other people? You shouldn't use seduction to solve all your problems. An Ding is getting such a strange reputation nowadays. Stop listening to Shang-shixiong, he's a terrible role model.

In the end, all he said was, "You're dismissed."

Wu Youxuan nodded sharply, and spun on his heel, settling into the graceful stalk of a predator after prey.

That Disciple Chen was in for an interesting time.

[obscurecurse]

Not Waving But Drowning (Ep 13)

ok sorry i got distracted by those other details from the ep. but i am once again asking for the KPTS scholars to dissect a kim look and it's this one right here:

(full disclosure the series of gifs for this post is titled like, "ohgodohfuck1, ohgodohfuck2, etc." i have been crying in public all week. and i accidentally dissected this scene in Reverse Chronological order, which is kind of interesting... does someone want to watch KPTS backwards with me? lord knows we've watched it forward enough times.)

i'm going to Posit™ some shit, but i did in fact ask for Your Interpretation...

this scene comes to the audience as a flashback, while kim is feeling emo about chay, looking at the polaroids in his apartment. and because it's got that flashback cinema feel, it almost reads to me like a glimmer of kim's mind, a bit of unreliable narrator? it's as if all of his memories of chay are compressed into a single moment, and its one that he feels he fumbled spectacularly. it's the epitome of their dilemma.

i didn't do a full rewatch for this (lol) but as far as i can tell, there's no other scenes where they're wearing these outfits, which makes it a little hard to place within the timeline. obviously this is before chay finds kim out, before chay is kidnapped, and probably before chay confesses? i reason that it's after kim has realized that chay is just a fan, though. the emotions behind the lyrics of chay's song seem to register as lyrics for Kim.

i think of kim, in general, as fairly composed. usually. he's an idol, well-mannered, and leans heavily on a poker face he's spent his entire life perfecting. (he obviously flips once he hits some threshold, which we see a few times. and then there's the moments where he literally has to turn it off, superseded by survival instincts.)

it's so interesting to me that he walks away here. he walks away when chay confronts him outside of his apartment, too. it's like, he doesn't trust himself, so he removes himself? or it's just muscle memory at this point? (he seems to flee quite a bit. he left home. he disappears himself after he pulls chay from the warehouse. its implied he's been avoiding chay. khun even seems to have a sense of humor about how aloof kim is when they meet in passing. kim continues to strengthen the muscle each time he walks away. walking away does not change things, but clearly he's getting something out of it. or it worked for him once and now it's just a character flaw. anyway)

he didn't even know he was playing with fire but now it burns. kim can't focus while chay looks directly into his eyes and sings to him. he can't sit still:

his jacket (HIS BLUE JACKET) is stained with black brushstrokes.

and perhaps my favorite thing about this scene is the envelope it comes in: we see chay how kim sees him now -> framed by the window of the sound engineer's booth, singing only for kim

my questions: why do you think he walks away here? what is behind that look? is it guilt? (because he knows how this will all later look to chay, and he understands now that chay had approached him honestly) is he barely containing the urge to return the apparent confession in chay's song? is he conflicted, torn by the firm belief that he's wrong for chay? is he considering letting the cat out of the bag, about being a theerapanyakul? is there something specific that kim does not want chay to see or glean from the look on his face? maybe a mix of some of these?

the other point of interest, for me, though not directly related to my query, is the look on chay's face. it's something like rejection or at the very least disappointed surprise? at face value, playing a song for someone you look up to is a very vulnerable act. this is not the reaction he was hoping for or anticipating. but it makes me wonder, also, if chay knows(/suspects) more than we all give him credit for? somewhere deep down he must know how unlikely it is that his idol would engage him, a fan, in this way? i'm not saying he's onto kim, but maybe he's aware something is off about this situation? or, i guess, another possibility is that he's just worried about kim?

[inkubuzzz]

WIP Weekend (9/14-9/15)

What Am I Working On? (Works with progress in the last few days only)

1: Untitled, dragon!MBJx adventurer SQH

Summary: Shang Qinghua is part of the Cang Qiong Adventurer's Guild. He has been sent on a mission to investigate a mountain where there have been supposed dragon sightings recently. Things go wrong, and Shang Qinghua has to find shelter from a blizzard in a random cave. In that cave, he just so happens to find the dragon he was looking for.

Favorite part (so far):

"Of course, Shen Qingqiu had been the one to suggest Shang Qinghua go. Why couldn’t Shen Qingqiu go? He was too busy with his werewolf husband!! Apparently, the full moon was coming up and his husband needed his full attention. He used the excuse that Luo Binghe would go on a rampage if Shen Qingqiu didn’t tend to him, but Shang Qinghua was fairly certain that was just an excuse to get some time off with his husband. So that left Shang Qinghua to go look for a dragon in this icy wasteland!"

Word count (so far): 1447

2: Untitled, exploration of MBJ's teleportation ability

Summary: Mobei Jun's teleportation ability relies on his ability to control shadows. It's an ability unique to him, and he has always kept it to himself. However, he finds himself wanting to share it with Shang Qinqhua.

Favorite part (so far):

"The shadows had always listened to Mobei Jun. He could call upon them and travel through them as easily as he could ice. Even amongst his kin, this ability had always been unique to him. Even Luo Binghe, the only other demon Mobei Jun had ever met who could teleport, relied on his ridiculous sword in order to do so. The shadows were something for Mobei Jun alone.

But now, he wished to share them with someone for the first time. With Shang Qinghua."

Word count (so far): 253

3: Untitled, Witch!SQH x Familiar!MBJ

Summary: Shang Qinghua should have summoned a familiar years ago. Everyone has been pestering him as to why he hasn't yet. Finally, he gets sick of all the questioning, so he decided to summon a familiar. He expects something simple, like a rodent or maybe a cat if he's lucky. But what's this??? He managed to summon a demon lord?? And the demon lord agreed to be his familiar?!

Favorite part (so far):

"Shang Qinghua looked down at his spell book for what seemed like the millionth time. He was certain he hadn't fucked up the spell. There was absolutely no way. It was perfect down to a T. So…

Why the fuck was there a demon king in his room???"

Word count (so far): 328

[muffinlance]

Hello Dragons Here: Gaang Meeting Outtakes

Alternates to part four. Or read part one here.

Take 2: Hallway Meet & Greet

So they tried his office, but that was empty too, and there was only so long they could wander the palace before they were caught.

“I think it’s tactical retreat time,” Sokka whispered, as they huddled in an empty corner of the halls. “As long as they don’t know we were here, we can try again another night. We’ll just park Appa up in the mountains and… dragon?”

“What?” asked Katara.

“Baby dragon,” Sokka said, pointing down. The ferret-cat sized dragon blinked up at him, its snakey tongue flickering from its mouth. Aang resisted the urge to squeal.

“Please come back,” came a very tired voice, right before a teenager who walked really quietly rounded the corner and straight into them. Kind of literally. Sokka reached out to steady him, as he wobbled post-impact. And then they had a Fire Nation servant that they really couldn’t let leave blinking at them.

“...You’re very short assassins,” said the teenager. Whose long hair was partially tied up in a frazzled bun, but mostly down his back. And whose sleep robe was really rumpled. And who was blinking at them through a pair of glasses that were almost an exact match for the ones in fashion at King Kuei’s court, like he’d gotten them from the same artisan. And also there were some ink stains on his face, like maybe he’d fallen asleep on some still-drying documents. So… maybe a scribe? The stains were on the scared side of his face, which was where the Fire Lord was supposed to have one, but his was smaller on his face than the portraits Ozai had commissioned, especially with the way the hair fell over it. And Aang also knew from Ozai how much the Fire Lord liked sharing his facial scars with the people around him.

“We’re, ah. New hires?” Sokka said.

“I,” the teenager said, “am not dealing with this. I am taking Druk back to the hatchery, and then I’m finishing my work, and then I’m going to bed. If you’re assassins, make an appointment.”

“Is that… something assassins usually do?” Aang asked.

“They should,” the teenager said.

Take 1: In a Happier World

Did I write an entire prompt reply only to scrap it and replace it with Sifu Ozai? Yes. Yes I did. The original:

Aang is escorted between bending teachers, kept away from exploring. Kept away from the Fire Nation, and most of the coastlines of the Earth Kingdom, which are called the colonies now. 

The first thing he was told, when he woke up, was There was a war. It lasted for ninety-eight years.

The second thing was, It’s over now.

No one tells him, but by the time he’s studying earthbending, he knows the third: It’s over because the Fire Lord said so. 

“But… it’s good he ended it, right?” Aang asks that night, in the safety of his room with Sokka and Katara, who started as his escorts from the Southern Tribe but ended up as friends. He thinks they’re friends. 

“It’s good he’s not marching new armies into places,” Sokka says, staring up at the ceiling. “Less good, that he hasn’t marched the old armies back out.”

“If he’d ended it a year earlier, our mother would be alive,” says Katara, her face to the wall. 

Fire Lord Zuko celebrated his sixteenth birthday just before the winter solstice, when Aang was still in the south pole. The Avatar was sent a formal invitation to attend. But Aang had… he’d been awake for only a few weeks. All he’d wanted to do was go home. He’d tried, and—

And going into the Avatar state had apparently alerted sages the world over to his existence. So. That was great. The Fire Lord’s hawk carried another message, as unsaid as so many other things: I know exactly where you are, Avatar.

Chief Hakoda politely declined on his behalf. 

He trained under the same master as Katara; one of the women who’d come south, when the blockades between the poles had been lifted. He wasn’t a natural healer like the Chief’s daughter, but it… it was good, healing. Healing was what he needed. Waterbending had a fighting branch, too, and he could go to the north pole if he wanted to learn it, but they’d already turned Katara away and. And he didn’t see what learning how to drown someone, or cut them with ice, would help. They sent an offer, to send one of their best masters south.

Gran-Gran declined on his behalf. He didn’t read what she’d written, so he could pretend it was polite. 

The Earth Kingdom was… it was fracturing. Ba Sing Se had been the cultural and political center in Aang’s time, and it was still supposed to be a great city, but it was great because it had expanded its walls to ring in enough farmland for itself and then… sort of ignored what was going on outside them, for the next few decades. The generals living there still plotted tactics, still lead the armies, but the nobility lived like there wasn’t even a war. And then the news came out that the Earth King really hadn’t known about the war, and. 

Aang was in Gaoling when the news hit. The Beifong family had invited him to stay during his travels, and Sokka had a firm always-accept-free-stuff-from-rich-people policy, so. So he got to look out over their estate walls as people rioted. When he finally made it to Omashu, Bumi took one look at the girl who’d kidnapped herself into his saddle and snorkel-snorted. And then they’d had an arm-wrestling contest over who got to teach him. Toph cheated, but so did Bumi, so it was fair? 

“Two cheats make a right,” Sifu Toph told him.

“No they don’t,” said Katara.

Toph declared him a passable earthbender. Within the week, another hawk from the Fire Lord arrived: an invitation to be tutored by Crown Princess Azula herself.

I know exactly how much you’ve learned, the letter didn’t say. It didn’t have to.

“So,” said Toph, “we’re coming with to see how creepy this guy is in person, right?”

Aang was so, so glad for his friends. 

And now they were in a suite of rooms in the palace, graciously being allowed the night to recover from their travels, before their meeting with the Fire Lord and his heir in the morning. 

“On the bright side,” said Sokka, which was never a phrase that ended well from him, “if he wanted to assassinate you, he’s known where you are for months.”

“Thanks, Sokka,” Aang said. And went for a walk, in the palace halls, because… Because.

Because he was the Avatar. And no one was saying it outright, but every time they said The war is over what they meant was Because the Fire Lord forced the terms. Because he offered to stop killing our people if we signed. Because he has dragons, dragons big enough to scorch armies to ashes without ever getting in range of benders or archers, and no one can fight against that.

No one but the Avatar. Master of all four elements, if he did what every nation in the world had done, and accepted the Fire Lord’s generous offer.

“He’s not even offering to teach you himself,” Sokka had snorted, when he’d first read the letter. “What, is he too busy counting his war spoils?”

The halls were quiet. Aang was looking for one of those courtyard gardens they’d seen from the air, but what he found instead was—

“No, come back, why can’t you stay in the hatchery—”

A very frazzled young man, and a very noodly baby dragon, who both slid around a corner with the same scrabbling-over-polished-floors grace and crashed right into him. 

“Umm,” said Aang. “Oww?”

“Catch him,” ordered the young man, as the dragon wormed its way between them and bolted again. 

And then Aang was on a baby dragon chase which was... probably exactly what he needed. At least, he was out of breath and laughing by the end of it, and his new friend was grumpily down an outer robe, which had been sacrificed to the cause of bundling the baby into a sort of squirmy burrito-pretzel. Also it kept trying to light the robe on fire with its dragonbreath, and the teenager kept blowing his own sparks which somehow swirled with the fire and put it out, and Aang absolutely had to know—

“Can you teach me to do that?”

“Uh,” said the teenager, leaning back from Aang’s face, which was maybe a little closer to his own than most people found comfortable. But they were dragon buddies, like he and Kuzon had been, so it was totally justified. “I’m, uh. Not really that good? I barely have any time to practice real forms, the dragons just have me play games and creatively roast their meat—”

“But you’re breathing rainbows.”

“...Please don’t say it like that in front of my sister.”

“I won’t,” Aang said, smile broadening, “if you teach me. And come meet my friends!”

The teenager didn’t say no, and Aang recognized this hallway, so he hooked their arms together and dragged him off. 

“Guys!” Aang said, sliding open their door. “I met the palace dragonsitter!”

“...Please don’t say that in front of my sister, either,” the teenager sighed. 

“That’s nice, Aang,” said Sokka. “Hello, dragonsitter. How does it feel, to be kidnapped?”

“Familiar,” said the teenager, in a kind of worrying deadpan. “I really need to get Druk back to the hatchery. I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

“Nuh-uh,” said Toph. “This is my first team kidnapping. No leaving until we get a ransom.”

“...I can order snacks?” offered the teen.

“We’re keeping you,” Toph said. “Now get us more of those fire flakes. Snozzles keeps trying not to cry while eating them, it’s hilarious.”

“It is not my fault they are both delicious and trying to kill me,” Sokka said. 

“...I’ll send tea, too,” the teenager said. “But, uh. I really should… not be here?”

“Relax,” Sokka said, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “It’s not like we’re going to snitch on you to the Fire Lord.”

The dragonsitter mumbled something Aang couldn’t quite catch, but it sounded a lot like I can see the family resemblance. But he got a passing servant to send for their snacks, and he let the little dragon down for some supervised exploration that ended in all of Sokka’s emergency seal jerky being gulped down its throat as it ran circles around the room, and the teenager finally sat down and leaned back and laughed, which Aang wasn’t sure was a thing he did a lot of. 

And then he met them the next morning, in formal robes, on his throne.

“...Hello, Sifu Rainbows!” Aang said, and the girl next to His Majesty cackled.

#Azula: This is the best casual roasting

#since you came back home to father

#Zuko: can you please not use that comparison every time

#Azula: absolutely not <3

#All Adults: terrified of the Fire Lord

#Team Avatar: terrorizing the Fire Lord

#and then they broke it to him that people had signed his peace treaties under pain of dragon eating

#Zuko: THEY DON’T EVEN EAT PEOPLE

#Sokka: thank you for that information Fire Lord Dragonsitter

(Read more prompts || Longer ATLA fics || Original works)

[ghost-proofbaby]

Hiya!

I saw this tiktok and it made me swoon over the idea of modernpilot!Eddie bc this whole thing feels so eddie coded (not necessarily a request I just needed someone to gush over this with)

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLrYCxab/

- @gaylittlenerdsblog 💗

clickable link

oh my GOOOD, this story has popped up all over my fyp and you're right - it is so eddie 😭genuinely it's so sweet and i literally adore the idea. and the fact that i headcanon eddie as more of a cat person makes the entire thought so much sweeter 😭

like imagine him stumbling upon you posting about your current situation, obviously very sad and devastated, and the man sees it and he just can't seem to scroll past it. he doesn't even like dogs that much - he prefers his temperamental cat at home far more than any dog he's ever met - but he can see how much you love your dog and he knows he can help. and it's an insane idea, one that he tries to ignore for several nights, but he just can't stop thinking about it. he'd be pacing his apartment thinking about it until he finally takes the plunge and dms you about it. finds himself a nervous wreck until you respond so kindly and excitedly, brimming with gratitude as the two of you work out how to put his spontaneous plan into actual action. obviously you two would be talking quite a bit in the days leading up and well- he can't tell if he's warming up to your dog from the sweet videos and photos you send, or if he's warming up to the sound of your giggles and 'pet voice' you use in the background of said videos. and don't even get me started on his reaction to finally meeting and how he'd make an absolute fool of himself in front of you that morning when you meet up to do what he'd previously thought might be impossible or just be such a stupid idea. fumbling over himself, stuttering, blushing at all your kind words that pour out. watching you love on your dog in real time. he never stood a chance, and suddenly, he's got a damn crush on this stranger from the internet and he's actually liking your damn dog which is just ridiculous but god is it the dog who's cute as hell or is it just you.

anyways when your dog meets his cat and they actually get along he nearly faints from the cuteness and realizes he's never letting you go. 😭 lord give me the strength because eddie munson is a softie at his core and his whole 'gathering up sheepies' definitely extends well past just the high schoolers he took under his wing - apparently, it'll even extend to a four-legged yapper and his gorgeous owner with a heart of gold.

(this is one of those posts that went to the drafts graveyard for some reason and i am truly offended. i want everyone to think of pilot!eddie. what the hell tumblr.)

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Dreamswept: Chapter Eleven

Dreamswept: In which Dream’s imprisonment brings out his darker side. Y/N’s mother works for the Burgess’s as a nurse, and after stumbling across what is hidden beneath Fawny Rig’s mortars one summer, Y/N’s life will never be the same. A darkness has attached itself to her and no matter how long she is kept from the Endless in the basement, he has not forgotten her kindness and brief moments of comfort. No, he has not forgotten, and now he craves it. 

Warnings: Explicit Language, Non-Consentual Explicit Material.

To Note: Dark!Morpheus/Dream x Female!Reader, Inspired by 'Claiming His Queen' by @moonmaiden1996 (Go Read It!).

Word Count: ~2.5k

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When you woke up from your deep slumber, you found yourself snuggled against the softest sheets imaginable and feeling more rested than you had in years. Your eyelids fluttered and you fully opened your eyes. Dark shimmering fabric met your eyes and confusion overtook your mind. Pushing yourself up, you looked at what you were laid out on and blanched. This wasn’t your bed, and looking around, you surely weren’t in your room. Your hands scratched at your body only to find that you were naked as a newly born babe. Your face flooded with heat and you snatched the shimmering black sheets to your chest, covering your naked body. You certainly felt awake now. You were in an unknown place with no clothes. How the hell did you get here?

You looked around the room, noting that it was large and castle-looking, with softly glowing candles mounted on the wall. Dragging the sheet from the bed, you wrapped it firmly around your body and moved to poke around. There was a little sitting room and a wall of windows with French doors that let natural light into the room. Interested to see if you could recognize something, you peered outside the windows. 

“What the bloody hell,” You whispered as your eyes were met with a fantasy-like landscape. Of course, you could recognize mountains and forests, even the waters that shimmered at the base of the castle you apparently werein. But what had you flabbergasted was the design of the castle you could see and the townspeople who milled around in the village at the base of the castle. Was that a human-sized cat? That looked like one of the wild things from the book ‘Where the Wild Things Are’. “I’m going crazy,”

“Do you really think that?” You spun around, clutching the sheet closer to your body at his voice. Upon seeing him, you did your best not to turn into a floundering or flushing mess. His eyes drifted along your covered body and you tightened your grip on the bedsheet. It was clear that he was appreciating your body, even if he couldn’t see the physicalities of it at the moment. 

“Where am I?” You questioned, glad that your voice was managing to remain steady despite your situation. “Where have you taken me? Better yet, who the bloody hell are you!” He prowled forwards, looking at you like a predator hunting prey: hungrily. When he reached you, he gazed down at you with that nova-like gaze that you could feel in the very center of your being. You could feel the echoes of his touch on your body, both the rough and the light. A shudder went through you when he leaned down. 

“I am Dream of the Endless,” He spoke softly to you. “King of Dreams and Nightmares, Prince of Stories, Lord of The Dreaming, and the one you have promised yourself to.” You had no idea who Dream of the Endless was, but you were quick to understand his title of King of Dreams and Nightmares. “And you, my priestess, have been kept from me ever since you tried breaking me out of my confines deep within that manor.”

“What?” You had no recollection of attempting such a thing. Surely you would remember him. He reached up and brushed your cheek. 

“Why do you think they didn’t want you coming back?” He said, his words brushing over your lips. “Was it not enough to have me trapped for over a century, but they had to take away the one person who showed me an ounce of kindness? You put the first crack in my cage and gave your dreams to me willingly. You are my priestess, Y/N, mine.” 

You didn’t remember any of that, but something in your gut told you that what he said was true. It was no wonder your mother had you put on dream suppressants for 15 years, she was trying to protect you from him. This changed everything, explained everything, they didn’t want you back because they were trying to protect you. Something within his eyes changed and like a rogue wave, his eyes blazed with rage as he pressed forward in anger. 

“You think you need protecting from me?” He hissed out, his anger at the insinuation near palpable. You shrunk back in fear and he was soon gripping the side of your face. “Have I ever given you cause to fear me? It seems that I will need to enforce my reverence for you, repeatedly, until you realize my complete and utter devotion to you my little priestess.” He was growling now, angry that you had suggested such a thing as him being a threat to you. 

“I— I— Dream this is—“ Your lips sputtered for word as his face pressed closer, his nose nearly brushing against yours. You could feel the heat and desire radiating from his pale and marble-like skin. 

“You will call me Morpheus.” He darkly commanded you, his gaze now all-consuming, possessively bearing down into yours until he was all you could see. Endless galaxies and stars swirling around silver and blue. “Yes!?” You nodded eagerly, not wanting to push him any further. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Word, my love. Use them.”

“Yes, Morpheus,” You breathed out as fast you could to appease the Endless. His vice-like grip didn’t ease up, but he, at the very least, looked satisfied now. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip, pressing down and dragging across it as if relishing the softness. 

“Again,” He demanded, like you speaking his name was pure ecstasy for him. It was. 

“Yes, Morpheus,” You repeated obediently. He called for you to do so a third time and you did. His eyes briefly closed, relishing his name rolling off your tongue like the sweetest nectar in the known universe. No one said his name as you did. No one. Morpheus leaned his forehead against yours. Your next breath hitched in your throat. 

“You belong to me, my love, my Y/N, you have since you first spilled blood for me.” He whispered, his words caressing your lips in a sweet draw. Morpheus released your lip and traced his thumb down your chin to your throat, then his hand encompassed the column in a light grip. “I have been robbed of you for fifteen years and I will not spend a second more without you.”  

You didn’t know what to say to that, and it scared you to think about what he wanted to do to you. A shuddering breath made your entire body tremble against his, and in seconds Morpheus was lifting your body from the floor and swiftly crossing the room. You didn’t even have time to register what was happening before your back hit soft sheets and the very sheet you had been using to cover yourself was all but ripped from your body. You gasped with a squawk and tried to reach for the remaining sheet to recover your naked body, only to see dark eyes blaze with mercury. The sheet dissolved away, leaving you with nothing. Your arms dove down to cover yourself, your left arm across your breasts and your right hand to cover your cunt. 

“Morpheus, please, I—“ You cut off as mercury eyes landed on yours and you could see the wild anger that boiled in his star-soaked eyes. 

“Do not hide yourself from me, my love,” He spoke to you, running a hand along your naked side, stroking your skin with such delicacy that one might think he was caressing the finest of silks. To him, you were more precious than anything money could buy. He was going to lavish you through until you realized just how much you meant to him. You were the one who had devoted yourself and yet Morpheus would do the worshipping. You would see the error of your ways soon enough, but in the meantime, Morpheus was starving and you were the only thing that could sate his appetite. 

“I didn’t ask for any of this, this has to be some sort of mistake!” You violently protested, wiggling in place and trying to roll away from him. In an instant his body was dropping down on top of yours, preventing you from sliding out from under his. Your body squirmed against his jeans and his jacket, and your hands reached up to push at his shoulders. You strained your neck to put your face as far from his as possible. Morpheus pressed his lips against your neck, placing kiss after kiss along your skin, feeling your racing heartbeat beneath your skin. Your offered neck all but beckoned Morpheus to dine. The moment Morpheus’s lips parted to suckle and lave at your flesh, your body went taut and a strained moan passed through your lips. His mouth sank into your throat and painted your skin until color bloomed and you were squirming uncontrollably, pushing at his shoulders and kicking your legs out while making periodic soft whimpers fall from your lips. Morpheus brushed his lips up your neck, nuzzling the places where your pulse raced. He kissed your chin and reached up with a hand to force your eyes back to him. Your eyes were filled with fear. 

“You did ask for this, my love, but your mind has been so twisted and manipulated that you no longer remember.” You blinked rapidly and a few stray tears slipped from your eyes. 

“Stop, stop, stop,” You breathlessly whispered, feeling frozen beneath his intense gaze. “This is just a dream and I need to wake up, wake up, Y/N, wake up.” Morpheus’s mouth twitched in the corner at your words. You still thought this to be a dream? Your mother had twisted your mind worse than he thought… Morpheus had a grand task ahead of him. Leaning down, Morpheus kissed away your tears. 

“You have nothing to fear from me,” He whispered, brushing his lips over yours. You jerked against him once more, straining to free yourself from his entrapment. It was a useless endeavor because it was like trying to push a marble block, uphill. With the languidness of a serpent, Morpheus dragged his lips down your throat to pepper your breasts with love and attention. You bucked against him, your hips scraping against jeans and jacket once more. Your struggles were nearly useless and your energy waned, soon enough you were sagging against the bed with a defeated noise. Morpheus shushed you gently from where he was tracing your hip bone with his lips. 

Your fingers curled into the rough fabric at his shoulders, clawing and dragging downwards as Morpheus’s hot mouth explored your thigh, pressing sharp bites between sweet suckles and gentle kisses. Another whimper passed through your lips and your leg twitched in his grasp. Your eyes drifted downwards to see Morpheus nuzzling your tender skin which already bore the markings of his dark love. His eyes lifted to meet yours and you shivered in fright, feeling the breath from your lungs escape you as intense silver conveyed total and complete obsession. 

“Do you not see how your body reacts to me?” He murmured, his right hand caressing your other thigh and deeply stroking further upwards until his thumb glided right through your cunt. Your body stiffed once more as an explosion of sensations rippled through your cunt and your body reacted on its own, betraying you in the worst way. It wanted more, and Morpheus knew that. You felt ashamed at your reactions to his sinful ministrations but he only seemed to be pleased by it. “Do not protest what is only natural for someone of your position.” He further stroked your cunt, pressing and rolling this thumb over your clit. Your eyes rolled back slightly and a triumphant look crossed Morpheus’s face, your resistance was finally crumbling. He withdrew his damp fingers from your cunt and dropped his hand back to your thigh in a tight grip. Then his mouth, voracious and eager to explore your flesh, dove between your trembling thighs, and once again, he feasted. 

You felt his tongue swipe over your clit and cried out, your teeth once again sinking into the flesh of your lip. His grip on your thighs tightened against the twists and turns of your body, surely leaving behind imprints of his fingers on your untouched flesh. Your sweet scent was driving him crazy and your taste already had him hooked on you. It wasn’t long before your hand was descending to his obsidian hair, burying into the soft strands as your muffled cries of ecstasy fed his appetite. Your skin felt as if it was sweltering with fire and that fire was making it hard for you to breathe. Feeling your nails scraping against his scalp and tugging at the strands in your grasp, a soft growl of appeasement rumbled from Morpheus’s chest. Finally, finally, you were reacting to him rather than resisting, and oh how you fell apart beneath him. 

From the taste of your nectar on his tongue to your uncontrollable writhes against his mouth, you were a goddess that was quickly falling to pieces. But he had made a promise to both himself and you, Morpheus would not allow you the pleasure of release until he was sheathed within your body and connected to you in a way only he could be. So with great restraint, he pulled back from your quivering body. He watched as you all but fell back against the bed with a strained gurgle, your hand limp in his hair and your chest heaving as you sucked in air. You looked exquisite stretched out, and it took everything in his being not to ravish you further. The very scent coming from your body was enough to make his cock twitch, never mind the fact Morpheus had you entirely naked and your taste was fresh on his tongue. Morpheus leaned over you and brushed sweaty strands of hair away from your forehead, allowing his fingers to linger along the path of your temple to the curve of your cheek. Your face was flushed as you refused to look at him. 

“Everything will be as it should be soon enough, my love,” He whispered, pressing his lips against your forehead. You refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing another pitiful sound come from your trembling lips. “I will give you the release you seek, but only when our bodies are one,” Another trickle of fear ran down your spine. This nightmare seemed to be never-ending, and the longer it lasted, the more you started to think it was reality. Morpheus pulled away and stared deeply into your eyes, making sure you kept that eye contact. “And when I fill you with my seed you shall be more than just my priestess, you will be my queen.” This time you couldn’t hold in the whimper. 

Date Published: 11/30/22

Last Edit: 4/3/23

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[starswornoaths]

Prompt 6: Ring

Lucia comes to Aymeric hoping that he will forsake duty just this once.

She knows he will not. She asks anyway.

(hi I'm late and haven't written anything personal in so long, help)

word count: 2,218

Even knowing the Lord of the house would be away for at least another bell, Lucia had opted to spend it pacing the foyer of Manor de Borel all the same. Possessed of both a spare key and a first name basis with the staff had made the choice easy, when weighed against the prospect of calling him back to the office after hours.

Were she choosing to do this in armor and on record, she might have opted to wait until the morrow to discuss her findings. Were she more loyal to Ishgard than to its leader, she would not have gone through the trouble of being seen buying a bottle of wine from the Crozier as a show of turning up at a friend’s house after work for a genuinely not-uncommon nightcap. Were she a better person, she would not have come at all.

But she was none of those things. So sat she on a sofa in the foyer self soothing with a cat in her lap and an unopened bottle of wine on the table, just beyond reach. By her design, a neat pile of papers writ in as many different hands had been stacked just beyond the bottle, just out of reach and folded for discretion.

Duchess had made herself known the moment she awoke from her nap, yowling and weaving between Lucia’s legs until she made her lap available to be kneaded. Petting her feline friend was a better use of her hands than crumpling an otherwise pristine report, anyroad.

Aymeric’s arrival was a bell and a half after Lucia, as it turned out. There was no worry of her presence being startling, as even from her spot on the couch she could hear a brief conversation in the entryway somewhere between the clacking of boots and the muffled shifting of coats. An announcement on her behalf, as far as she could parse.

When he rounded the corner into the foyer half dressed for more arid climes than Ishgard and beginning to shiver faintly, the buzzing in her mind quieted with another mystery to fixate on. Old habits kicked in, and she read him from head to toe.

Though his head was free of a hat, the telltale blemish of fading marks across his forehead outlined the headwrap he had likely worn all the way to the door. She recognized his blouse as one more familiar to Thanalan, long sleeved and light and wrapped lightly in a vest gifted by Raubahn for wear during his visits. His pants and boots were of standard Ishgardian build, however; likely, he only dressed warmly as far as his coat fell to make his business in Thanalan more comfortable.

His expression was somewhere between a grimace at being unkempt in front of company and a smile at her presence as he gave the end of one sleeve a tug. “Lucia! I beg your pardon, you find me only just returned from Ul’Dah—”

“Get settled in.” she gestured at Duchess kneading biscuits in her lap. “I am off duty—and clearly not going anywhere.”

Though the journey was short and lightning quick, Lucia mapped the path Aymeric’s eyes darted, from where she had gestured to the report at the table to the unopened wine beside it before looking back to her. On at least some level, he understood the Game was afoot.

Aymeric’s virtue was also his vice: he will do the right thing—the just thing—every time, even to his own detriment. But Lucia knew that he also trusted her judgment. When she bade discretion on a matter, he deferred to her expertise.

That, and he hated being unclean to the point of distraction. The longer he hovered at the door with pleasantries, the more it had become apparent in the way he idly picked at his hands.

“Of course. My thanks—and a thousand pardons,” he said, ducking his head as he crossed the foyer and took the stairs two at a time.

Lucia had given herself a full hour and a half to think of what to say before he got here. Aymeric gave her another quarter bell by performing the same hasty but deep cleanliness that the military demanded, with an extra five minutes for him to dry and dress. Two hours, all told. 

It was still not enough time. 

By the time Aymeric returned to the foyer, all casual attire and damp curls, Lucia still lacked the words to present her findings. All that time, and she had nothing but an apology mangled in her throat.

“What were you doing in Ul’Dah?” she asked instead of explaining anything. 

Any hope of him already knowing had been dashed the moment he came home, but it was rendered clear as day now: he was still happy.

“Ah,” Aymeric sighed around a smile. “Business- both official and personal. I had thought to reopen trade discussions with the Sultanate. Discussions all around have been delicate, but enthusiastic. Progressing.”

It was so like him not to mention what he had done for himself unprompted, assuming a lack of interest. A habit he had not yet fully broken, but one he had indulged in far less of late.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Lucia croaked, “And the personal…?”

“Oh!” he startled, but lit up at the chance to explain, “Do you recall that trip I took to the Forelands? Some three moons back?”

Lucia remembered. After a jaunt in the Forelands with Uthengentle, he met her at the airship landing wearing durable working clothes and positively smudged with dirt from head to toe. At the time, she had thought to congratulate him on actually using some of his vacation time of his own volition and only half in jest, but ultimately walked away with more questions as to what it had been for. 

She knew what had become inevitable when he had only offered an explanation of, “I was in search of a star sapphire. I worried I had taken too large a piece but Uthengentle assures me he will use the excess in other pieces.”

At the time, Lucia had not asked him what it had been for. A part of her had already known—or perhaps, had hoped. It had been a happier prospect, at the time.

“Uthengentle finished my commission. ‘Tis a beautiful thing, really—should all go well, I expect you will have ample opportunity to see it often.”

Seeming unaware of her stomach falling out from under her, he gestured to the stack of papers she had brought with her. “But it seems I have more business to yet conduct before the night is over. What have you brought to me, my friend, that you would do so out of armor and for no pay? For all you complain about my lack of freetime, yours is precious little better.”

Alas, their friendship was an ongoing tug-of-war between both their propensity for overworking. If Aymeric was not discreetly scheduling days off for her, Lucia was liable to rearrange what duties she could to give him at least a few hours free a week, if not a full day. 

Lately, it had been getting better—for both of them, due in no small part to the efforts of one Warrior of Light. An ally playing both sides of the war, as lover to one and sister to another but loved fiercely all the same.

An ally that might well have betrayed them both in one fell swoop. If it might not risk weeping, Lucia would laugh at how thoroughly they might have been played.

“Physikal reports.” she said, at last freeing herself from Duchess’ leaden weight and handing Aymeric the papers. “From the incident in the Tribunal.”

An ongoing mystery that had taken a back burner by necessity during the Dragonsong War. Small mercies and damnations, then, that there was no finger drumming in the wake of peace. Not for the righteous, at least.

A principle that Lucia had until recently believed shared by the Warrior of Light. 

But righteousness does not demand silence from its victims. Righteousness was not complicity. 

And yet—and yet—there were gaping holes of information. Stories that did not align. Lucia’s mind bounces wildly between conspiracy and betrayal, unsure of which would wear on her more but knowing which one would unmake them both entirely.

Lucia studied Aymeric’s face as she shooed Duchess off her lap and rose from her seat to join him by the hearth. There had been a lingering smile in his eyes as he had taken the report. A lightness he was halfway through storing away for the sake of work as he delicately unfolded the pages.

He was the Lord Commander again before he had finished the first paragraph. If she wanted to play a morbid guessing game, she imagined it was somewhere around the phrase, “healing magicks interfaced poorly with deeper wounds—suspected use of Dark Arts at play.” 

She would also guess at what point he caught the reason for this clandestine turn-in: Serella Arcbane found consorting with a heretic’s corpse on Tribunal grounds four hours prior to incident that occurred inside. Association suspected, extent unclear. 

“Aymeric—” Lucia croaked, dropping all pretense of titles and duties.

In that moment, such things were too heavy for her to carry. The flames in the hearth were too tempting in that moment; if she had been holding the reports, she might have thrown the pages in the fire just to be free of the tension. Old habits crept in from the most bent and beaten parts of her. Not even in Borel Manor was she safe from the shadows of the Empire, not when they so darkened her heart.

“You know what it means that I am here off duty. No other has seen this report,” she continued, and though her words were evenly measured out, tested carefully on her tongue, it still felt as though she were rambling. “None that yet live, at least.”

His expression was inscrutable. Like he was trying desperately to mask how his heart threatened to break. Like he was failing, for all his spectacular effort. 

Far from emboldened but already there, Lucia leaned closer and whispered, “One word…one word, and this never leaves this room.”

Because she would take the secret to her grave, if Aymeric asked it of her. Over country, over duty and faith and god she would, if he but bade it of her.

But she knew that he would not. He would not even consider it. In a way, it was why she had asked it of him in the first place: her loyalty to him was always rewarded. His honesty, the compass that pointed them north.

And how bittersweet her reward was this time, when he did not so much as glance at the fireplace, eyes never leaving hers.

“And what would we be burying? A half-truth that would never come to light. We would bury victims, and any chance they ever had of justice with them. We would be no better than those who came before us.” Aymeric said, passionate and predictable.“If the crime is one of unconscionable evil, we must needs condemn it—even should the transgressor be our closest kin. I said as much to her, once. I meant it then as much as I mean it now.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, because she felt she must.

It wasn’t her apology to make, not really. Not when the perpetrator might well be someone they so dearly loved. Not when, just this once, her hands were clean. Knowing that did not make her feel less dirty for the work.

No rest for the righteous and all that.

“You have done naught that needs forgiving.” he replied, his tone crisp and curt in that way it was at the war table.

Tapping the papers lightly against the palm of one hand to hastily straighten them, Aymeric folded the reports along the crease she had already made for them with quick, decisive movements, and held the stack out for her to take after only a moment’s hesitation.

In spite of herself, Lucia flinched.

“You will submit this as a cause for concern on the morrow, Ser Lucia.” he ordered. “You will formally request leave to pursue this case, and I will formally assign you to investigate it—which you will. Thoroughly. What evidence you find, you will submit in its entirety. Regardless of what your findings are.”

“Yes, Lord Commander.” she said in a voice of warped steel.

Lucia was reminded that he had gotten a commissioned piece when he began to fiddle with a small velvet box in his hand. Were it not for the way his expression crumpled, she might not have left him to his grief.

Even knowing the answer, her voice bent toward something softer as she asked him, “What did you commission?”

After a moment to swallow heavily, he gently set the box down on the table and said, “Depending on what this investigation yields…nothing.”

When he removed his hand, he hooked his thumb into the meet of the box’s hinge and lifted the lid to show Lucia the contents inside.

Nestled between layers of velvet coated cushions, adorned with a large but immaculately cut star sapphire wrapped in gold like a stained glass window, was a ring.

[iantimony]

tue … wednesday,

gif warning on this one!

i was gonna post this last night but apparently i am now the type of person who gets extreme digestive distress from indian food :-( so i was too distracted by my agonies. much better today, and i feel like i had a worse reaction a few weeks ago from indian food, so maybe it's something that will get better with time like everything else ...

listening: so my brother spontaneously bought us tickets to see st vincent in [redacted] while we're on vacation...i haven't listened to her in ages but i was like sure why not...her new album dropped on the 26th and it's SO good. i'm kinda obsessed and very excited to see her live now. it's a good album. listen to it.

listened/watched the wtyp on five over ones, and started the more recent one on the camp fire.

reading: continuing 'how to read poetry like a professor'. yum. poetry.

watching: once again, dunmeshi (my boyf keeps asking "when is best girl showing up" (izutsumi) and i finally was able to be like "i think next episode"), more asobi asobase. insane show. the voice actors are masters of their craft, truly. good lord.

playing: fallow.

making: some stuff came out of the kiln that i actually like! the cave painting mugs!!! i made One fatal error - i put a 'satin' topper over the outside assuming it would be matte. it. kinda isn't? kinda is? made these weird "jizzy" (instructor's words, not mine, lol) streaks. thankfully it isn't too noticeable and they came out really good otherwise. the hardest part has been photographing them, the designs go all the way around and choosing a favorite is so hard...i made a gif to try and capture it all lol, and i really love the little handprints on the handles. these will go in their own post in the next few days so i can tag the inspiring artist :)

i also threw some new ones to make more! i do think in the future i will be handbuilding them though. i just really don't like throwing red clay for some reason. maybe i just need to practice more i dunno. i've since trimmed and put handles on these but i forgor to take a photo.

citrus juicer! it works!! it came out a little more Orange than i anticipated, the only downsides are manually scooping out the seeds, and also that it can kinda only handle one fruit at a time, but man, whatever, it's so cute.

mug/teacup that i tried a new underglaze technique on, where i put the flowers on the greenware and then use liquid latex to cover them to just slather the thing in the bg color: works well, i did this for the mug from last week too! my mistake with this one was putting that same jizzy satin overglaze on the flowers and it made them weird and blurry. it's cute otherwise though.

some stuff going in the kiln for bisque: fun texture bowl and a little trinket dish that i underglazed some cherry blossom trees on, inspired by something a friend in class did!

in terms of new things, today is actually the last day of class for me til i get back in july, so i will be trimming a pot and plate that i made last week but will otherwise just work on things i already have! the goal is just to leave things in a place where no extra clay work needs to be done; things can be left as greenware til i get back.

i also made some little watercolor palettes! for some reason the last one i made i didn't carve out material, i just sort of pressed in, and this made the whole thing a little wonky, so i'm hoping these will lay flat because i carved material out

eating: nothing of crazy note. made deb smittenkitchen's soy glazed chicken again because it whips ass.

misc: wough...fucked up day......butter chicken for dinner knocked me for a major loop last night and i wasn't able to sleep til like 1:30am from the Agonies, woke up to feed the cats and then went right back to bed...didn't get up til noon...but now i feel loads better so i might try to do some light exercise this afternoon before pottery, otherwise sleeping tonight is gonna be a nightmare lol. the goal for the afternoon is to submit my last thing for classes (takehome exam, it's not bad i just have to finish it up, and then i officially finished my masters degree (!!!)) and then do a little more for my meeting tomorrow morning. this time next week my brother will be here with me, and that following weekend we drive home together, so everything is about to happen very fast! i'm not gonna be home for as long this summer, and won't just be rotting in my room the whole time, so hopefully things will go much more smoothly mental health wise. fingers crossed! things are looking up! :)

[impawsiblecat]

100 Days of Deathduo

Day Five- Reverse Phasmo Au Chapter 3

    The breaker is off the next morning. Again. Clover groans as she shivers in the house. She should. She should really draw those curtains back. That would probably be a smart idea. 

    As she lets the light into the house, even the warm sun cannot hide the chill of the house. Clover doesn’t know if its because the breaker is off or because there is an actual ghost in the house. A ghost that she has realized is going to be a very big problem. And because they are gonna be a big problem, Clover needs to find a solution. Which means going back up there. With the ghost. Who throws stuff at her.

    Maybe she waits a little bit. Clover has actually brought a jacket this time, and sure, its a little dark inside, but she can make do with the sun streaming through the ratty curtains and her phone flashlight. The ghost didn’t really do anything harmful, granted, just threw things and made her house cold and kept during off the breaker, but well. Its a ghost. Clover isn’t dumb enough to go into a room with a ghost anymore than she had to. 

    And so, she works. She wipes down the desk, cleans out abandoned paperwork, and sweeps and mops the floor, making the place liveable. Some of the furniture probably needs to be thrown out, but a lot of it is fine, which makes Clover’s job easier. Yes, she has a ghost living in her house, but at least she doesn’t have to pay for a nice desk. 

    The pictures on the wall show the previous family who lived here, two parents and three kids it looks like, the ones presumably chased out by the ghost, and Clover doesn’t want to just throw them out, even though she doesn’t really like the idea of having random strangers staring at her while she does what she needs to do. She puts a picture of a teenage boy holding out a fake sword towards the other two younger children by the paperwork, and vows to try to find the owners as she smiles at the playful scene. It would be a shame if such sentimental pictures were thrown away.

    No wonder they needed such a big house. Unlike the family, Clover has all these rooms to herself and her projects, and she really doesn’t need this much space. But the house has plenty of capacity  for if she wants multiple guests over and a room for her cat and an office area. And apparently room for her forced roommate. Because Clover still has no idea what to do about the ghost.

    Clover does know what to do about the dusty bookshelf in front of her, though. She wipes away the dirt that has accumulated and carefully glosses over the spines of fantasy books and old time classics. Surely the family wouldn’t mind if she read some of them. The Lord of the Rings trilogy looks very tempting. Not that she could read it with the current lighting situation.

    Clover sighs when she realizes she is going to have to go back up to the storage area soon. It’s getting darker outside, and she at least wants to finish sorting out this room before she leaves. She is going to have to brave the cold area and the ghost who throws a ton of things and turns off the breaker. 

    The stairs creak again as she walks up them. She is really going to have to get those fixed, the sound is already getting a little bit annoying. Clover goes through the room near the top of the stairs, and feels a jolt of pride upon realizing she didn’t even get lost this time. The doorknob to the closed off storage room is cold again, and Clover shivers as soon as she twists it and walks in again.

    “Hello again ghostie. I appreciate the day-long break. I tried to do as much work as I could without the lights. I even brought a jacket this time. But it is getting to be night again! And I need to continue working. So uh, if you don’t mind, I am just gonna turn this breaker on over here.” She says, turning her head around the room. There isn’t any response. Even when Clover flips the switch, the ghost is suspiciously quiet. 

    “Alright then. Thank you.” Clover says, inching back across the room. She stumbles across the cross she had left there last time. “Ah. I forgot about this. Um. I am just gonna leave that here for you as a gift. Ghosts like crosses, right? She says, going towards the doorway and stepping out of the room.

    The ghost appears near the cross as soon as Clover steps outside, and she yelps at the sudden appearance. They look her in the eyes, and smile and lean down to the gift. And then the cross lights up in flame as the ghost lets out a silent laugh.

    “Ah, alright then.” Clover says faintly. “Not the religious type, I see.” She says, before hurrying down the stairs for the second time in two days. 

[macawritesupdates]

Wow so many updates you're killing it! I loved the latest chapter of cuddle it had so many great moments. Yuuji and Sukuna nesting together was adorable and I loved the scene where he pulled Yuuji into his domain for cuddles. The heat was beautiful go get that comfort Yuuji you deserve it. I also loved so many of the descriptions you used like Yuuji wiggling like a cat to get close to Sukuna. Yuuji thinking about how Sukuna has a relatively simple technique but has mastered it to such a degree that he is far more dangerous than sorcerers with much more complex techniques was really cool. It made me think about how some techniques are only as good as their user. Like how mei mei has a "weak" technique but she figured out how to use if so well that she's a first grade (I don't like her at all I'm just sayin). Or how Yorozu has basically the same technique as Mai but she's so much stronger because she puts so much more effort and thought into it. Or even Kenny who's technique is non combat based on its own he's so dangerous because of how well he plans things out. Sukuna's technique is simple and easy to understand but that just means he's got way more freedom in how he can use it. It's like having a highly specialized tool vs a simple but versatile tool. It's fun to think about. It's a little like how you can do basically anything in Minecraft because it's so simple but you have a lot less freedom in big complicated aa games which are more complex but offer fewer choices because theres a certin path the player is expected to follow. Of course all that freedom is completely useless if you aren't creative enough to make use of it. Not everyone can figure out how to build cathedrals or working calculators in a game. Not everyone could take a technique of cutting and earn the title of the strongest. Hmm went a little long on that bit lol. Anyway love Yuuji still being down to roast Sukuna but wanting to avoid any bigotry when he does. It's perfectly OK to throw shade at the man lord knows he deserves it but we will not I repeat not torment him over stuff he has no control over especially when his poor life choices offer so many other options for ridicule. I am such a sucker for a good cuddle so this chapter has definitely been my favorite so far 💗. I love Sukuna being such a bastard about affection he's figuring this shit out on the fly but he's got to be a bit of a dick about it. He can learn all kinds of stuff from Yuuji AND murder him in the domain apparently.

Hmm, as for suggestions for what happens next, I'm thinking we could have a fun morning after the heat. Yuuji seemed to think in the last chapter that his heat would end quickly, so where we go from here depends on whether he's right about that. If he is then I think next chapter should definitely have Sukuna teasing him about how clingy and cuddly he was during his heat while, and this is key, absolutely cuddling the shit out of him. I'm talking holding on with both arms purring and somehow still looking so smug while completely ignoring the hypocrisy as he refuses to let his brat leave the nest. Making fun of Yuuji for being a clingy little octopus as he does his best impression of a creeping vine clinging to a tree. If Yuuji's wrong and the heat is still going then I suggest some spice. I kinda wanna see pushy Yuuji domming from the bottom so to speak. He's in heat he knows what he needs and he's damn well going to take charge and get it. Sukuna can be along for the ride of his life. After that ends I wouldn't mind looking into these curse users some more are they working for Kenjaku? I almost want them to be an unrelated group just for the fun of adding a completely new group of unknown enemies for the plot but that would mean adding a lot of world building and motivations for these guys and this fic is a collective effort so other people would have to be interested. Until next time, thank you for writing and sharing with us!!

It always was fascinating to me that Sukuna's techniques were rather simple but used to a point they were so powerful. Also just the name of it "Shrine" always made it seem like there was so much more to it than just slash and burn. It makes me wonder if Sukuna was capable of a LOT more when he was at his height which makes it feel like Heian sorcerers had to be damn powerhouses compared today 8I

ALso good cuddles are nice and this fic had to earn its name at last with all the cuddles packed into this one! Had a TON of reader comments wanting cuddles hehe!

As for adding worldbuilding and plot...I'm ALWAYS excited when a reader adds something like that to the story! Helps to give it more direction and is often a very unique take <3 it adds things like the creep sorcerer and giving more room for bonding c:

Glad you are enjoying the fic dear reader!

[jimmythecannon]

Riddle Me This: Who Am I?

Answer: Alright, so, a bit about me since I haven't really used this account much.

(tl:dr - chronically ill gamer nerd with a cat)

I'm a fucking nerd-ass nerd. I love comics and videos games and reading (fantasy, sci-fi, and horror primarily). My single most favorite franchise is almost certainly Star Wars.

I love TTRPGs but never get to play them these days. I played AOL chat room RPGs for years and still do one on one roleplay.

I used to stream but it's a little depressing when you have no audience showing up.

I cosplay, frequently as the Riddler or something steampunk (or Agent Coulson!). I used to work as a pirate part-time with a crew at local Ren fests and similar things.

One of my fondest cosplay memories is meeting Kevin Conroy (RIP, forever the voice of Batman when I read comics), Loren Lester, Tara Strong, and Robin Lord-Taylor at a con in my Riddler costume, telling them a riddle, and stumping all four of them. Here's the result.

I have been chronically ill since I was 12. I have Crohn's disease, migraines, fibromyalgia, arthritis in my spine (apparently!), sleep apnea, high blood pressure, depression... I feel like I'm forgetting something. Which is unsurprising with my memory. Speaking of, I suspect ADHD or possibly even being somewhere on the autism spectrum, but haven't been tested for either yet.

I am fiercely on the left of the political spectrum. I believe the whole point of society is for us to take care of each other. Otherwise we may as well be living alone in the wilderness. People deserve health, safety, freedom, and comfort.

I'm a recovering... maybe not addict exactly, but substance-dependent? I was on a lot of pain meds for 15 years due to my health, including the majority of my teenage years, and to this day I struggle with taking too many pills.

I have a cat named Imoen (named after a character in the old Baldur's Gate games). She is my love and my life.

I'm super chatty about my interests, and I am a completely open book. I gave up shame years ago when I was a teenager and kids kept making fun of me due to my illness.

Kids can be dicks.

My mind permanently resides in the gutter, so MDNI - this is not the place for kids, there will be NSFW text if nothing else.

There will be horny here. I like what I like. I have a monster fucker permit and I am not afraid to use it (except for that good scarousal). Give me succubi, vampires, sorceresses, mind control, all of those fun fantasies.

Jimmy is not my real name but it's good enough for the internet.

I... can't think of anything else to add here. Like I said, I'm an open book, ask me anything.

I guess I'll wrap this up with a picture of Imoen when she was a kitty.

EDIT: Oh and this is a 420 friendly blog. Medical marijuana gets me through the day, I am incapacitated with pain otherwise.

[popjunkie42]

You're such a doll. 🥹❤️

🚀🏷️🎁

I was traveling this weekend so just catching up with fic asks!!

🚀Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?

Lol I was just discussing this on Sunday! I absolutely outline but I am definitely a lazy, create-as-I-go pantser with a lot of writing. I'll generally get a big burst of creativity when I come up with a new story I'm excited about and I know the broad strokes of everything as well as a few scenes that come to me. I might write it down, I might just remember it. I like the story to unfold as I'm writing it, and a lot of times I'm solving plot problems and discovering emotional through lines as I write as well. It's a messy process and I love it. :) I will say Psyche-Eros is going to be 60k+ words for part one, and I just did a bonkers detailed chapter-by-chapter outline to keep me on track, so I definitely need it for longer works...

🏷️Is there a tag you like to search when looking for fanfics to read?

Honestly the only thing I search is for new Feyre/Rhysand fics! I'm lucky to be tapped in here and get a lot of recommendations from people. And I've found so many good pieces and writers just by searching for new Feysand fics on AO3!

🎁Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

Ok I shared this a bit elsewhere but I think I've already posted a lot of my fave bits from Psyche-Eros so you get something new :) This is an Azris meeting UTM...be gentle, it is my first Azris.

“And how is your dear circle? Is The Morrigan in hiding from her father? He looks at me strangely every time I mention how much I miss her glowing countenance.”

Azriel was still, a dark storm brewing.

Eris knew. Only in seeing Azriel, in the hard iron bars of his mental shield, had he been able to dredge up their names, bits of their faces, like pulling memories out of sticky tar. Their names felt heavy on his tongue.

“I’m not speaking about them.”

“Won’t you? And don’t you want to know what your illustrious High Lord has been up to? Just this evening I watched him make a low fae dance for hours until his feet were bleeding, and then knock him unconscious so quickly his face cracked on the marble floor. Apparently Amarantha thought he had sneered at her in the hall.” No reaction. “We all knew Rhysand was a bit of a monster, but he truly seems to have found his calling in this place. Who knew he would take to servitude so well.”

The lilt of his voice was a taunt, a plea for reaction. He wouldn’t stand for stoic silences today. “Does he even know you’re here?”

The barest hint of a smile, the corner of Azriels’ lips twitching. His eyes like dark coals. “I came to see you.”

Eris huffed a laugh. “How flattering, that you came Under the Mountain just to needle me for information. You’re like a hungry cat. I should never have fed you. Now you won’t stop coming back.”

A smile, a flash of sharp teeth. Menace glistening in shadow. His dark wings rustled as he pushed off of the table where he had been leaning. His steps indeed like a stalking cat. Until he stood in front of him, his wings casting a shadow over the high lord’s son, the fire crackling and looming behind him.

“I wasn’t hungry. But you fed me anyway.” His leg closer, parting Eris’s knees on the couch. Azriel leans down, his eyes going to Eris’s lips. “Says more about you than me, I would think.”

[tame-a-messenger]

💙Smoshblr December Asks Day 2💛

What are your top 3 favourite movies?

And how easily would your friends (or ppl you work with) be able to guess it was you, based on them?

Good lord is this hard.

I'm a big movie and show person (not a film buff though, I just really enjoy them :)) so this is hard to nail down. These are movies that when I watched them they surprised me with how good/fun they were, and that I really just had a good time with! (you know minus all the murder? What can I say I like thrillers)

Wanted (2008)

The Goonies (1985)

Battle Royal (2000)

Midnight (2021)

Scream (1996-2023)

I will say my number 1 is probably not the best movie objectively- I just had a BLAST watching it for the first time. I went into thinking it was gonna be a normal action movie and about 10mins in I realized "Wait.. this is gonna be fun?" not that action movies aren't fun, but if you've seen the movie I think you know what I'm talking about. I'd recommend anybody that likes James McAvoy to watch it!

The Goonies is just a movie that is like the cornerstone of "80's kid adventure!" at least for me. A movie a could watch the rest of my life and still have fun.

Battle Royal.. A CRAZY FUCKING MOVIE. I don't even really wanna say anything about it, other then WATCH IT, YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT (disclaimer- a lot of blood, and other crazy shit) It was the inspiration for A LOT of movies.

Ooooh Midnight. A very good thriller/chase movie. Another movie that I was laughing my ass off even though that's probably not what the director intended lol. This is the first one I feel fine giving a bit of a description. ripped off google-> A young deaf woman and her mother battle with a serial killer after they accidentally interrupt one of his kills. A deadly game of cat-and-mouse plays out across the city as the women try to stay one step ahead of their pursuer. This movie is really good by itself but I kept getting caught off guard at how much ass the guy was hauling. Like man is RUNNING. Anyway super great suspenseful thriller movie with a fun ending!

I put the whole Scream franchise because it was pretty much the first "horror" movie I was allowed to watch that I also really happened to like! Classic "Who dunnit" mystery! Who wouldn't like it? And I guess I just really like chase scenes in my thriller/suspense movies lol. who does it better then Scream?

Writing this and having to decide "what ARE my favorite movies?" has made me realize, I really like suspense thrillers.. with good chase scenes.. Don't get me wrong these are probably my top movies but its interesting they all have similar themes. I have plenty of movies I like that are VERY different than these^ but honestly? these really are my favorite movies, at least that come to the top of the stack.

That being said I have a plethora of other movies that are very near and dear to me :)

I'd recommend any of the movies above. they really are all a lot of fun, and if you do end up watching any or have watched any I'd love to hear about it!

Also, no nobody would probably guess these lol, most of them are kind of off the beaten path, and I don't think you'd guess I like suspense/thrillers as much as I apparently do considering how bubbly I am irl lmao

[ettelwenailinon]

Tag game to better know you

I was tagged by @b1uetrees, thank you!! thank you ☺️💚💚💚

what book are you currently reading?

uuuuuuhhhh many books relating to my dissertation, one that has been very enjoyable and well written that I want to finish after is jacobites: a new history of the '45 rebellion. from fiction books I've been reading the song of achilles since last september, I'm Busy okay 😭

what’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year?

I have not been to a cinema in years 😂 but I am going to go and see the barbie movie after my deadlines dtcgtbzh

what do you usually wear?

a shirt (the puffier the sleeves the better), a big skirt, kneehigh stockings, potentially some sort of vesr

how tall are you

recently got measured and 159 cm, 5'2.5'', short king ✌️

what’s your star sign? do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

aquarius!! and I had no idea but apparently I share my birthday with lord byron 👀 (probably where my love for puffy sleeves comes from)

do you go by your name or a nickname?

I go by a domestic version of my name as my legal name is too long and I hate it dftgzgzgz

did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

there's always work to be done but I'm happy where I am :)

are you in a relationship? if not, who is your crush if you have one?

@uighean is my girlfriend and we're getting ever so closer to finally live together!! ❤️

what’s something you’re good at vs something you’re bad at?

uuuuuuhhhh good at art (maybe) and bad at. sports. and maths. and breathing.

dogs or cats?

I love both but to have, cats

if  you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite  picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this  year?

honestly all the work I've done on my dissertation so far but I can't post it here because I want to keep my professional and private life separate and I do not need people finding my tumblr where I can just be a freak dkfkdkkdk

in terms of fanart, probably this one

what is something that you’d like to create content for?

I mean. beyond evil, when I have the time 😭

what’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

my dissertation and the meow meow from my histories to the point that I tried to find historical rpf do not @ me

what’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

when I was supposed to go to a museum to take photographs of an object for my dissertation but the day prior I got a message from them that they can't open the safety case it's in, resulting in me loosing £45 because it was too late to cancel the bus and then it took them a month to get a locksmith and they didn't even manage to open it but I was waiting and was stuck with my work 🤡

what’s a hidden talent of yours?

well, it's called hidden for a reason 😅

are you religious?

not in an existing religion sort of way though I was raised casually catholic

what’s something you wish to have at this moment?

money, a place to live with my girlfriend and a phd position with a full scholarship or my dream job dftvttvvyvyyh

and I tag @uighean , @doctor-punkenstein , @hanjuwonsupporter , @fire-burning-brighter , @tiffanylamps and anyone else who wants to do this, no pressure 💜

[epiceneandroid]

day 19 for @cocajimmycola‘s mogai icon challenge, a character that deserves everything good!

oh god cammy.

cammy white. cammy fucking white.

she deserves the world. she does not deserve any more shadaloo/illuminati/whatever the fuck jp is shenanigans but: unfortunately i feel like she’ll be on the trauma conga line and EVEN PROBABLY SEPARATED FROM HER SEMI-CANON GIRLFRIEND (juni) AND HER SISTER (decapre) AGAIN.

insane infodump from me under the cut because GOOD LORD i can write an incoherent essay about street fighter apparently!

so context: cammy white was a clone of m bison using his dna. (hence the intersex/klinefelter’s syndrome specifically trans woman headcanon, and the lesbian headcanon since m bison likely is attracted to women, being a...genderless person who cast away his womanhood to become more evil. it’s complicated. street fighter lore is complicated.) she was then abused by m bison, implied to be in multiple ways, and groomed to become a personal “doll” for his army of 15-16 year old girls that were brainwashed into becoming his bodyguards. (again. street fighter lore is REALLY weird.) she was rescued by either chun li or guile depending on the continuity, and eventually she broke free from the brainwashing and joined up with a secret agent group based in england called delta red. she worked for delta red in street fighter ii-street fighter iv, but in street fighter ii she had the issue of “i don’t remember who i am or why i am fighting for delta red”. this amnesia was due to a dissociative break of “i do NOT want to fucking remember i was a child soldier for a creepy old...genderless primordial spirit that looks like a man” and she broke when she eventually recovered her memory that she was m bison’s clone, but eventually got over it for the most part because her new mission was to rescue her close friends, the dolls, who were the other brainwashed girls who were forced to serve m bison. especially her sister, decapre, who she was also partially made from the dna of. (hence the klinefelter’s syndrome headcanon, since, again, she was made from the dna of a cis woman and a genderless primordial spirit with xy chromosomes.) in street fighter iv, she had already rescued juni, who started living with her, and they both were implied to develop romantic feelings for each other by street fighter v. afterwards, she tried to rescue decapre, who DESPISED her, and wanted her to die for not rescuing her first, but she’s also dying because of her unstable body. and m bison taunts cammy about it too. because he’s a bastard. in street fighter v, juri han eventually helps cammy rescue the rest of the dolls, along with the other world warriors (a team assembled by karin kanzuki (aka tony stark but better) consisting of ryu, ken, dhalsim, chun li, guile, birdie, rashid, charlie nash, “rainbow” mika nakanawa, ibuki, and...some others i’m forgetting), and decapre even breaks brainwashing and helps her escape shadaloo and save the other dolls. so cammy’s life seems pretty happy so far...until in street fighter 6, where she is given a NEW mission involving (the game isn’t out yet) johann petrovich, who most notably taunts her by calling her his “little doll”, implying he might be another m bison successful bodily transplant. so yeah. cammy might be fucked, but i am WISHING better for her. i’m wishing her to enter a polycule with juni and juri (juri and juni are metamours but they’re NOT dating, juni would be terrified of juri) and have a happy life taking care of her cats and being safe.

SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG. anyway, intersex (klinefelter’s syndrome, specifically) trans lesbian cammy white. best headcanon ever btw.